Dangerous Thoughts
by RedMoonBear
Summary: Galatea Bulstrode was born with the gift of Legilimency, and Snape has the task of teaching her how to use her gift in secret. We watch as Galatea struggles to navigate her way through the difficulties of school and the Second Wizarding War, whilst slowly coming to learn the meaning of love and hate. Very slow burn. SSxOC, AU, Manipulative!Dumbledore, Lemons in later chapters
1. A rainy day

The rain ricocheted off the ground in fat, gloopy drabs. A young girl sat in the windowsill on the third floor of a mansion, watching the rain pour. It had hardly stopped all Summer, which had led her to sulk. She much preferred to play outdoors, away from the wretched gaze of her father, away from the hatred. She dreamt desperately of a place where she didn't have to listen to his vile vitriol about his great heritage being tarnished. Her younger sister seemed to suffer the brunt of the resentment, because she wasn't gifted.

She sighed as she thought of her little sister, Millicent. Millicent had come to resent her more as time went on, as her father had come to praise his eldest daughter more for her abilities. Millicent made no effort to hide the fact that she strongly resented her. It didn't help that her mother also sometimes played favourites with her. Her mother was a distant woman, spending little time away from her work, but she would occasionally spoil her daughter with rare signs of affection, telling her how pretty she was. Millicent had inherited her father's heavy, jutting jaw and big build. She knew that Millicent was jealous of her own looks, her slimmer build and caramel brown hair. But it was her gift that made Millicent more jealous than anything. She had often tried to confide how difficult her gift was to her sibling, but the complaints fell on deaf ears. She wished that she could swap places with her sister, so she could see what it was like to be 'special'. Millicent had changed from when they were younger, and seemed more like their bully of a father every day.

Her gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a call to breakfast, and she hurried down, the bitter thoughts gone in an instant. She could barely contain her excitement, sensing the letter on the table in the dining room. It was finally time for her to leave home and attend Hogwarts, something she had wished for since her mother had told her about it. She ran at breakneck speed, ignoring the scolding from the regal portrait on the wall. She reached the dining room, where her mother and father already sat.

Her mother was reading the Daily Prophet, drinking her coffee slowly. Her father was giving her a rare 'smile'. It frightened her when he smiled, his face twisting into an unnatural smirk. It was like he didn't know how to show joy. She could already feel the pride beaming off of him. _My little prodigy, finally going to Hogwarts! I can finally show off her talent to the world, and we will be more respected by the other Purebloods._ The thought was so loud she almost thought he was speaking to her, though he hadn't uttered a word. He stared at her, then irritation flashed in his eyes when she didn't move. "Go on, open your letter girl!" He snapped impatiently, and she beamed as she ran to do just that. He couldn't dampen this special moment in her life.

"No running indoors, dear." Her mother said absently, even as she ripped open her letter, relishing in this perfect moment. Her eyes took in the cursive written in green ink, savouring the details.

 ** _Dear Miss. Bulstrode,_**

 ** _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._**

 ** _Yours sincerely,_**

 ** _Minerva McGonagall_**

 ** _Deputy Headmistress_**

Her heart swelled with pride at the letter, savouring the moment before flipping over to the next page. A large list of required textbooks and materials were on the next leaf, and she found herself feeling a little apprehensive. One of her parents would have to go with her to Diagon Alley for all of these things. She hoped it would be her mother, but the thoughts from her father made it clear this would not be the case. She decided not to let it dampen her excitement, excited at the concept of her new life beginning.

Millicent came into the room then, her face falling as she saw the letter in her elder sister's hands. Her jealousy welled up inside of her. It would be another 3 years before she received her own letter of acceptance. Until then, she would have to begrudgingly accept the fact that her _perfect_ sister would be going to school and she wouldn't.

The house elves came in then and served the breakfast, her favourite, pancakes with strawberries. She couldn't help but beam as she ate, even as her father positively sang about how he could finally rid himself of the shame of his name being thrown into the dirt by his halfblood wife. Her mother completely ignored him, continuing to sip at her her coffee absently. Her thoughts were another story however, filled with just as much bitterness and resentment as her husband's. If he noticed, he didn't care. "Hopefully, you'll be in Slytherin. That way you can uphold our family honour." Her father said proudly. "One of the other sacred 28 families might consider an arranged marriage if you are. That would secure our position and standing, so don't let us down." She fought back a wave of disgust at her father's desperation to be recognised. She wasn't even convinced that anyone would notice her at school, let alone care about her heritage. Her parent's friends seemed to care a lot about it, but she knew that there would be an assortment of muggle-born children at the school. The family finished eating before her parents left to go to the Ministry, off for another day's work.

Millicent openly glared at her now. "I hope that you get sorted into _Gryffindor_. Father would be so disappointed in you. It's just what you _deserve_." She sneered at her older sister, sticking her nose in the air as she too left the room. Sighing, the older sibling tried her best to deflect the maelstrom of negative thoughts her sister sent at her, knowing full well that she was doing it to hurt her more. She knew that her older sibling would hear her unkind thoughts and weaponised it.

Galatea Bulstrode had been born with a very rare gift, the gift of Legilimency. Her gift enabled her to read the thoughts of those around her effortlessly. Indeed, she couldn't help but read others minds. However hard she pushed the thoughts away, she never successfully blocked them out. It had led to a lonely childhood; while her sister enjoyed playing with children her own age, she abhorred it. She could remember a particularly unfortunate occasion playing with the Malfoy's son when she had hit him over the head for thinking something nasty about her. Her father had been furious with her, along with the rather terrifying Lucius Malfoy. After that, she had spent most of her time playing outdoors, alone. Galatea didn't feel a lot of benefits from her gift. She resented that she had been given it at all.

She found her mood falling as she thought of how her gift would affect her friendships with the other children at Hogwarts. Perhaps there would be someone there who could do what she did, she thought weakly. She wasn't sure how it would feel to be around a crowd of other children. Suddenly, she didn't feel quite as excited about going to Hogwarts.


	2. To Diagon Alley

AN: Thank you to those of you who have already read and followed the story. I hope that following Galatea brings you joy. My updates are likely to be sporadic, as I am in the process of moving home at the moment. I also have a tendency to write my stories backwards (so as to avoid coming across inconsistencies further down the line). This means that whilst the end of the story is already planned and written, I have hardly planned out the beginning. Chapters are likely to get a lot longer as the story progresses.

On another note, Galatea is named after an interesting woman from Greek mythology. The story goes something like this; King Pygmalion of Cypress was a great Sculptor, who was attracted to women but didn't much care for their behaviour, one day carved the most beautiful woman from ivory. He named the statue Galatea, which means 'milk-skinned'. He fell madly in love with the statue, and postulated to the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite, to bring her to life so he could marry her. Aphrodite, seeing how beautiful the statue was, granted his request and bought her to life. Yet when she came to life, Pygmalion fell out of love with her because she had changed so much. They still married, however. If you're interested in the story, try watching the Overly Sarcastic Productions video on Youtube, which tells the story very well and is highly amusing.

Reviews are appreciated, positive or critical. We can all do with some self-improvement, after all! On to the story...

* * *

The next morning, Galatea awoke to brilliant sunshine and birdsong. She got up and opened the window of her little bedroom in the attic, enjoying the cool breeze and the smell of morning dew. She had to sleep up here, for peace and quiet. At night, she often experienced difficulty sleeping because she could hear the thoughts of the other residents in the house. Sometimes, if they fell asleep before her, she could even 'hear' their dreams. The onslaught of information in all their dreams was often too much for her. She didn't mind being up in the attic, apart from the occasional spiders.

Already, there was the bustling of thoughts from downstairs. As usual, it sounded like a room full of people all talking over each other at once. The voices on the ground floor were much more faint than on the second floor, but she could still hear them. She could blurrily see that her parents were already downstairs at breakfast. Her mother was deep in thought about matters at the ministry, and her father was pacing around the room, thinking of her. _Today's the day, I'll take her to Diagon Alley and get her school materials._ The thought barely registered as louder than a whisper, and she was unable to read the feeling behind the thought. She could guess though, that he was beaming. Her sister Millicent was still fast asleep, dreaming of Babbitty Rabbitty. She much preferred Millicent when she was asleep.

Deciding that it would be best to go downstairs before her father became impatient, she threw on her clothes and went to the kitchen. As she grew closer to the kitchen, she could hear her parents bickering quietly. Her mother, it seemed, was vehemently opposed to people knowing about Galatea's gift. She reasoned that it would make them the target of some unwanted attention from supporters of You-Know-Who. Her father, on the other hand, wanted everyone and their dog to know. Being born a legilimens was exceedingly uncommon, and it would reflect well on the whole family to have a naturally gifted child, and the wrong sort would come to respect their family more. Galatea could see both sides, but didn't much care either way. Her mother still seemed to fear the shadow of the memory of You-Know-Who. They quietened down as they heard her come down the swirling staircase.

It was no secret to Galatea that her father used to be a Death Eater. They couldn't really keep secrets from her, even if they wanted to, but her father was reasonably open about it at home. The fall of You-Know-Who had been a personal blow for her father. In contrast, her mother had never seemed so happy. Her skill of Legilimency hadn't been as sharp then as it was now, but she vaguely remembered the day that it had happened. Her mother had rushed home that day and sent off a plethora of owls, positively gleeful. When her father had finally returned, he had bought a storm with him. She still wasn't sure how he had avoided charges from the Ministry, though she had heard something about being payed off later.

Her father was rubbing his hands together when she got to the kitchen, still pacing back and forth. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and she knew that she wasn't going to get the opportunity to have breakfast. _We're leaving, it's time to get your supplies!_ He thought, as he moved to the fire place. Without saying a word to either of them, she quickly followed. He grabbed onto her small hand and said "Diagon Alley," before they disappeared into the green flames.

She had never been here, and was delighted by the beauty of it. She marvelled at the exotic shop fronts, the cobbled pathways and the wonky buildings. She saw a broom shop straight ahead of her, and a large book shop. Her father steered her into the book shop first. It was very quiet, as the shops had only just opened, and the Bookseller seemed pleasantly surprised by their entry, until he recognised her father with a jolt of fear. _Oh Merlin! A Death Eater and his spawn in my shop! Hopefully he won't cause any trouble… that poor young girl has probably been brainwashed. I wouldn't be surprised if he had already turned her to the dark arts._

Galatea tried her best to ignore the owner of the shop. It was not the first time she had heard this type of thought from a stranger. Though she didn't meet new people often, when she did it seemed to split into two groups; Purebloods and those who hated them. It was for this reason she hadn't particularly wanted to go with her father; when she was with her mother, people didn't notice as often.

She looked at the list of required books absentmindedly.

 _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk_

 _A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

 _Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

 _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

 _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

 _Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

 _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

 _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

She looked up at her father, puzzled. "Father, I already have many of these books at home. Will they make me read them again?" It was no secret that she enjoyed reading, and her father encouraged the habit, educating her as best as possible.

He looked at her pointedly. _Well, of course they will. It's a part of the curriculum. I know for a fact that you don't mind re-reading books. We'll get you new copies, as yours are a few editions behind. Only the best for you, my little girl. Millicent can have the tat now that you're done with it._ They often spoke like this at home, but rarely in public. He looked at her expectantly, and she forced a big smile. She didn't like when he spoke of her sister that way, but she was grateful for the new books. Satisfied, he moved on to get the books and payed at the till. He summoned the house elf, Dondis, and had him take the books home.

They traversed the alleyway, and Galatea felt excitement raise in her heart as they bought more and more supplies. It became more real by the second that she was finally going to Hogwarts. She positively skipped after her father, feeling truly happy. His thoughts had been muggy and obscure for a while now, but Galatea hardly noticed. He stopped suddenly, and smiled down at her. _Well, that's everything… except for a wand_. She almost jumped with excitement. _This is it! My own wand!_ Her father smiled, enjoying her glee.

They stepped into Ollivanders, and Galatea looked around. It was a dusty place, with shelves piled with hundreds of boxes of wands. She marveled at them all. Even though she had read about the wand shop, she had never imagined there would be so many to choose from. Her musings were interrupted by the nebulous thoughts of the wandmaker himself, as he bustled and shuffled towards them. She was caught off guard by the way his mind worked. Incredibly sharp, but full of thousands of memories and even more abstract thoughts. She felt a slight resistance to her probing as her curiosity overtook her. His light silver eyes met her own with a certain sharpness, and she found herself unable to read anything from him. She was very shocked by this, as when she came across those who used Occlumency, they were rarely able to keep her out of their mind so effectively. She wanted to ask him about this, but couldn't quite pluck up the courage.

Mr Ollivander smiled at her, and she tried her best to withdraw her probe. It wasn't polite to read people's minds. She could feel him exploring her own surface thoughts gently, and she wondered in passing if this was how he was so able to pick out perfect wands for people. She marvelled again- rarely did she meet another legilimens. He laughed a little then. "Ah, Miss Bulstrode, if only it were as simple as me picking out a wand for you. But the wand chooses the witch or wizard. It's not always clear why." He thought to himself for a moment, and plucked a box from the top shelf.

She took the dark wand from the box. It was very long, and intricately carved with tiny butterflies. _What a beautiful wand..._ She thought. She gave it a quick wave, only for her father's robe to catch on fire at the hem. Ollivander rushed to put it out. "No, absolutely wrong!" While her father fussed over his hem, Ollivander went to pick up another box. "Hm, perhaps this would be better suited to a witch such as you." He said absently, as he pulled another box out from under the counter. "I have tried to find the right owner for this wand for a long time, but to no avail." He looked pointedly at her, searching her eyes. "Perhaps it will find you to be a worthy master." He said with a curious tone of voice.

The wand in this box couldn't be more different. It was solid white, almost like Ivory. It was totally smooth, except for a small flower wrapping around the base, and it was slightly shorter than the other. She thought it looked quite plain compared to the last one, and felt a little disappointed. It wasn't ugly by any means, but it wasn't nearly as pretty as her mother's. She went to pick it up, and immediately felt a wave of warmth and power all throughout her body. Golden and silver light poured out her skin, and she felt utterly splendid. She beamed at her father and the wandmaker. "I think this must be the one!" She said exuberantly, feeling lightheaded and totally effervescent with joy.

Her father only nodded, but Mr. Ollivander spoke. "Hmm... Silver Lime, Unicorn Hair core, 11 ½ inches, slightly springy. A very unusual wand Miss Bulstrode. Silver Lime is known to be a wood that enhances the power of seers and legilimens. A most prestigious and uncommon wood, and a very interesting choice on the wand's part, don't you think?" Ollivander said, with a twinkle in his silver eyes.

Her father seemed a lot more excited then, puffing his chest out a little with pride. "That doesn't come as a surprise, well done Galatea." _Of course you picked a wand that enhanced your abilities._ He thought as he paid for the wand.

"Goodbye Mr. Ollivander, thank you for the wand." She said as they left. He merely smiled and nodded to her, a knowing look in his eyes. Outside, the street had started to be filled with people, and a great deal of hustle and bustle. The cacophony of thoughts had the effect of giving her a headache almost instantly, and she winced as she grabbed her head. Her father quickly pulled them to a fireplace, and they were back home.

Despite her headache, she felt ecstatic. She finally had a wand! She desperately wanted to go upstairs and start practising her spells, but the distinct smell of bacon filled her nostrils, making her tummy rumble. The house elf had taken the liberty of preparing them both breakfast, a full english. _Well, I can go and practice later,_ she reasoned as she went to sit down at the table. She ate greedily as her father ate quietly. It had been a perfect morning. Nothing could spoil it.


	3. Chapter 3: Empty Bottles

Angela Bulstrode did not enjoy having guests over to her home. This evening's guest was busily attacking a bottle of Firewhiskey with her husband, guffawing drunkenly as he struggled to pull the stopper out of the fresh bottle. Two were already discarded on the floor, now empty. A small puddle of alcohol was soaking into the carpet by the used bottles, where they had carelessly been tossed. To any outsider, it would seem that she was sitting quietly and patiently with them, but the reality was that she was seething inside. This was the second time this month that she had to indulge one of her husband's 'guests'. Always, they were so disrespectful of both her and her home. It made her deeply uneasy to see this man in particular in their home. Recently, Maximus had been re-establishing contact with his old crowd, and it filled Angela with a subtle sense of foreboding.

The guest in question today was a thin, unpleasant man with long black hair and a beard streaked with silver. His great forehead jutted over his eyes, giving him the appearance of a cave troll. He threw back his head again, laughing raucously at some crude joke from her husband. "I say Maximus, I can hardly believe it!" The thin man said through tears of laughter. "A muggle and a Hippogriff! Can you imagine it?!"

Angela stuck her nose in the air gracefully. The odorous stench rolling from the man's breath was deeply unpleasant. She looked towards the door without thinking, wishing she could leave the room and go to bed, instead of putting up with the two drunken fools. Alas, her husband had forced her to stay. He seemed to think that his work colleagues enjoyed her company. This was always how visits went, however. They hardly seemed to notice her presence once the cork was out of the bottle. That was, when the guests weren't Purebloods. They looked down on her with sneers and snide comments, which she had become entirely used to.

She was distracted from her musings when there was a soft knock at the door. The two men stopped laughing and stared, and Angela sighed, hoping it wasn't Galatea. She hardly needed to hear any of the crude thoughts from the men. She stood from her place on the burgundy sofa, and opened the door. Her youngest stood there in her nightie, looking around curiously and cautiously. "I had a bad dream Mummy!" Millicent said, clutching onto to her leg desperately. It seemed that Angela had got her wish, an escape route from the room had dropped into her lap, however temporary.

"Excuse me, Gentlemen." She said, smiling politely. She didn't wait for a response before scooping up her little girl and leaving the room.

She climbed the twisting staircase, clutching Millicent to her chest. She waltzed up the stairs slowly, taking her time as she stroked her little one's hair. All too soon, they had reached her bedroom, and she started to tuck Millicent back in. "So, what did you dream about that frightened you so? Normally you aren't so easily scared, Milly." Angela knew that Milly hadn't really been having a bad dream, and made it obvious in her tone of voice that she knew what was going on.

"I'm sorry mummy... I couldn't sleep." Millicent said, the guilt clear in her little voice. She knew she was being naughty by lying tp her mother, but Angela reasoned that there was probably a reason for this. She waited, knowing that her daughter would soon confess. "I'm sad that I can't go to Hogwarts yet. I want a wand too! And to do magic!" And there was the crux of the issue. _It's no wonder that she's jealous of Galatea._ She remembered how jealous her own sister had been when she had been accepted at Hogwarts.

Angela sighed, unsure what to say to comfort Millicent. She hadn't been imbued with much maternal instinct, and she knew that whatever she said wouldn't take away from the truth that Millicent would have to wait for years before she could join her sister. "You will go to Hogwarts soon. Aren't you looking forward to being able to spend more time with just your father and I? With your sister gone, it will just be the three of us."

Millicent did seem to cheer at this sentiment, but then quickly her spirits dampened again. "Daddy doesn't want to spend more time with me. He would rather be with _her_." Her little face scrunched up in pain. "I wish _I_ was special too."

Angela gave pause for a moment, her hand no longer stroking the girl's head. She knew that she hadn't been very present these past few years. Her work at the Ministry often demanded a great deal of her time and attention. Yet, she should have seen this moment coming. Her conscience was suddenly heavy. _How was I so blind to this?_ She ought to have known that Millicent would know that they played favourites with Galatea. Her gift was something to be treasured, and her mother had been studying her carefully. Perhaps too carefully- she hadn't realised that she was neglecting her youngest. She started to stroke Millicent's head again, unsure what to say. It was true that her father preferred Galatea, and that he wouldn't be interested in spending more time with Milly. Her father had no interest in them beyond how he could secure the family standing further down the line with marriage. The reason that they had even had Millicent was to try for a male heir, to carry along the Bulstrode name. That had been the last time that they tried.

She looked softly at the child she had never wanted to have. Her eyes shone back with unspent tears, and Angela felt immensely guilty. _It's not her fault_. There wasn't really any way to repay the last few years, but from now on she would try. "Well Milly, as things will be quieter at the ministry for the next few weeks, I think we ought to get out and about and enjoy ourselves. Perhaps I'll take you for some ice cream after we have taken Galatea to the station tomorrow?"

Millicent practically thrummed with excitement, all the hurt forgotten. For once, Angela felt that she had done something right. Parenting was no easy task. Millicent laughed and started to recant all of the things she wanted to do with her mum, and Angela smiled at her, listening to her ideas. At least her little girl knew what she wanted, even if she didn't.

For just a brief moment, the men downstairs were forgotten, and the sense of foreboding had evaporated into the dark night. In the attic, Galatea sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the twinkling stars in the night sky. Tomorrow would be her first day at Hogwarts, and sleep would not take her for some hours yet.


End file.
